One Hundred
by lucycantdance
Summary: Early Spring, Second Age 42. The first spark of hope in the ocean of darkness that is Elrond's life, and one night that will foreshadow his entire future. Elrond/Gil-galad. Contains sexual content but it isn't overly explicit. (Written for the 100 Themes Challenge, #100: Writer's choice - One Hundred)


**Fandom:** _The Silmarillion_  
**Pairing:** Elrond/Gil-Galad (Obviously. Do I ever write anything else...?)  
**Summary:** Early Spring, Second Age 42. The first spark of hope in the ocean of darkness that is Elrond's life, and one night that will foreshadow his entire future.

There is some dissention over whether 50 or 100 is the proper age of majority, so in my headcanon I have both. 50 is the age of legal consent (like 16), but young elves are not considered proper adults until they are 100, which is equivalent to the age of 18 or 21.

* * *

_32 Echuir_

"So, you still haven't told me what you want for your begetting day, and considering that it's tomorrow you're making it very hard for me," Ereinion said, moving his second pawn forward two spaces. It had been entirely too long since he and Elrond had last played chess, and so when they realised they both had a three-hour break over lunchtime the chance to rectify their chesslessness had been eagerly seized.

Elrond shook his head with a slight smile. "I don't want anything."

"It's your centenary, Elrond. I'm not going to let you get away with that again. There must be something you want."

Elrond's grey eyes flicked up to the King's face and back down to the board, and his lips quirked up a little further at the edges. "Nothing you can give me."

The words were spoken lightly, in jest, and Elrond had not intended them to have a deeper meaning but once they were spoken both elves knew they did. Ereinion felt like someone had stabbed him somewhere deep in his soul, despite the playful and not entirely serious way the words had been delivered. He knew what the half-elf had unintentionally been referring to.

The ability to have a properly functional relationship with someone. The ability to live a properly functional life.

Normality.

The half-elf was right, that wasn't something that Ereinion could give to him, no matter how much the King wished he could. Ereinion watched as Elrond surveyed the board, figuring out his strategy. After a moment Elrond made his move, and Ereinion put an end to his staring and his train of thought. Now was not the time to dwell on subjects like that.

They played almost three games of chess. The first game was the longest and was very much a game of planning; Elrond and Ereinion each picked a strategy and stuck to it, altering it only when key pieces were knocked out. Elrond won that game, getting a checkmate by the skin of his teeth, with four pieces left to Ereinion's three.

The second game did not last quite as long and was more reminiscent of their usual the-quick-and-the-dead style of playing, where they both set out to thoroughly decimate the other, changing strategy and switching tactics every move until Elrond finally had to surrender his king with only one pawn left to defend it against Ereinion's remaining hat trick of queen-bishop-rook.

By the third game, Elrond had moved from the armchair across the table to the seat next to Ereinion on the sofa. They rotated the board ninety degrees and began playing their third game in an almost lazy way, neither one much concerned with winning again now that the scores sat at one-all. That was, until Elrond made a move that Ereinion was sure was illegal. Elrond insisted it was perfectly legal. Ereinion refused to believe him so they went in search of the rulebook that was usually kept on the shelf with the board and the pieces but was inexplicably no longer there.

"I'm sure it was there just then when we got the board down!" Ereinion exclaimed, glaring at the shelf as if that would make it give up the secret of the rulebook's whereabouts. It didn't. He turned to Elrond. "Can you remember if it was there when we got the board?"

Elrond wracked his brain and found nothing. He shrugged and shook his head. "I honestly don't. It has to be here somewhere, though, we just have to look."

They each took one end of the wall of bookshelves and methodically searched each shelf for the elusive manual. After a while they met again in the middle, their search unfruitful.

"I think it's time to give it up for lost," Ereinion said. "I still think that move was illegal."

"It wasn't, I swear!" Elrond defended, unable to keep from grinning at the King.

Ereinion narrowed one eye and pretended to scrutinise the half-elf. "Alright," he conceded. "I'll let you off, just this once. Shall we call it a draw?"

"Alright," Elrond replied, a little absent-mindedly as he scanned the titles of the books in front of him. The shelf just below his eye-level contained part of Ereinion's collection of erotica and he thoughtfully reached out and brushed a finger down the spine of one of the more well-read volumes, his mind somewhere far away. Ereinion took a step closer to Elrond and lightly put his arm around the shorter elf's shoulders, wondering what the half-elf was thinking. He was unsure if the gesture would be welcomed, but was heartened when Elrond didn't automatically shrug his arm off, leaning into him instead. Ereinion tightened the partial embrace.

They stood there quietly for a few moments, Ereinion idly stroking Elrond's hair with the back of his knuckles and wondering at the half-elf's thoughts, while Elrond continued to stare unseeingly at the books in front of him. He was lost in reverie, only half-aware of his thoughts, when all of sudden he was suddenly struck with an odd feeling. It was like he was standing on a cliff and feeling the drop in temperature and slight change of the wind that signalled the approach of a big storm, as if something was about to-

He sucked in a breath. "Do that again!"

Ereinion was startled out of his own reverie. "What?"

"That! Do that again."

Ereinion hadn't been paying much attention to what he was doing so was not quite sure as to what exactly Elrond was referring, but he resumed his ministrations, concentrating on the same section of hair he had been paying attention to before.

Elrond closed his eyes, waiting. Please, _please_...

One caress ended and another began, and once again the knuckle of Ereinion's index finger accidentally brushed the tip of Elrond's ear.

_Yes._

There it was.

"That..."

Ereinion was still not quite sure what was going on, but he had noticed the contact that time and repeated it. "That?"

Elrond let out a deep breath. "That."

He abruptly spun around to face the King, his eyes brighter than usual.

"What's going on?" Ereinion asked. "Are you alright?"

Elrond didn't answer. His grey eyes were rapidly scanning the taller elf's face. There was a look in his eyes as if he was on the cusp of a revelation.

Ereinion raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Elrond put his hands on either side of Ereinion's jaw. "An experiment," he breathed. He glanced from Ereinion's eyes to his lips and back again, and then stood up on tiptoe and kissed him slowly, tentatively. Ereinion brought his hands up to rest on Elrond's waist and carefully kissed back.

"Are you alright?" Ereinion whispered again when they drew apart.

Elrond swallowed and nodded. "I think so."

"You sure?"

Elrond nodded again.

"What's going on?"

Elrond shook his head slightly. "I told you, an experiment."

The King was still somewhat perplexed at this sudden turn of events, but he didn't think he would get much of an explanation out of his friend.

"Ereinion?"

Elrond's voice brought him back to the present. "Yes?"

"...Can I kiss you again?"

Ereinion cast his eyes over Elrond's face. He seemed to be fine, and Ereinion thought there was some merit to the fact that it was Elrond who had started this in the first place. "As many times as you like."

The half-elf glanced up and caught the King's gaze, holding it for a second that lasted minutes. And then they were kissing again, still slowly but getting more into it as they grew accustomed to each other. Ereinion crossed his hands over Elrond's back and pulled him close as he felt Elrond's hands slide into his hair, the half-elf's long fingers entangling themselves up under the cluster of braids as if they did it every day. The King slowly walked Elrond backward until the shorter elf's back was resting against the flat side of the pentagonal-shaped pillar that filled the corner of the study.

They had separated slightly in the journey, and Elrond wasted no time in grabbing the front of Ereinion's tunic and pulling him close again. It felt like Ereinion's hands were everywhere on his body and the King's presence was overwhelming Elrond's every sense. He usually could not abide physical contact with other people because being touched made him feel like he was burning, but this time was different. It was finally the good kind of fire.

Elrond had only ever kissed two other people in his life and was perhaps lacking a little in finesse, but Ereinion was hardly an expert himself and was not particularly inclined to judge at that very moment. He could feel his blood rushing downwards and culminating between his thighs. Their kissing drew to a stop for a moment and Ereinion took the opportunity to grasp Elrond about the waist and shift him up a little against the pillar so that their hips were more or less level, then slid his hands down to the half-elf's thighs and lifted them so that Elrond's legs were around the King's waist. Elrond was watching Ereinion from under partially-lidded grey eyes that shone almost silver, his bottom lip held lightly between his teeth as he caught his breath.

Ereinion grinned at him and slid his right hand behind Elrond's head as he brought their lips together again. Elrond snaked his hands around to Ereinion's backside, and used his hold on it to pull Ereinion's hips forward. The movement caused the tiniest contact between their arousals and Ereinion made a sound in the back of his throat as his left hand began to feel its way under Elrond's many layers of clothing.

"How many layers does this robe _have_?" Ereinion muttered around kisses. Elrond laughed breathlessly.

"Four. And I have leggings on underneath too."

"Mm, found those," murmured Ereinion when his questing fingers found leather lacings. He kissed along Elrond's jaw as he made short work of those and slipped his hand inside, his fingers cold against Elrond's heated flesh. Elrond's toes curled inside his boots when the King's hand grasped him and he inhaled sharply, involuntarily tightening his hold on Ereinion's posterior as a bolt of pleasure rocked through him. Ereinion's lips were on the underside of Elrond's jaw now, teasing the sensitive skin only lightly - Ereinion was being careful not to leave any visible marks - and the half-elf let his head fall back against the pillar behind him as the sensations washed over him.

Ereinion's right hand was still entangled in Elrond's braids, and his left was caressing Elrond's arousal maddeningly slowly. Elrond bucked his hips, trying to make him go faster, harder- anything. Ereinion straightened up, bringing their faces close until their lips were barely an inch apart, but didn't let them touch. He obliged Elrond's silent pleas and altered his rhythm. Elrond stifled a moan at the changed sensations. Ereinion teased him with a fleeting kiss, and repeated the new manoeuvre, but gripped a little tighter, went a little faster. Elrond moaned properly that time, and Ereinion kissed him properly in return.

After a moment Elrond pulled slightly away from the kiss and tried to regain some of his composure. "Mmh. Ereinion."

The King made a noncommittal sound and went back to terrorising Elrond's jaw. The half-elf's hips bucked again, this time of their own accord, and he let out a shuddering breath.

"Ereinion, wait, wait."

The taller elf stilled in his movements and looked back at Elrond's face. "What? What is it?"

Elrond just shook his head, not quite able to answer. He rested his forehead on Ereinion's shoulder, his eyes closed as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

"Is something the matter?"

"No," Elrond replied without hesitation. "No."

He lifted his head and looked at Ereinion, a smile playing around his lips. He glanced meaningfully down to his crotch, where the King's left hand was still grasping his erection, and back up. Ereinion followed the direction of his gaze, but didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at. But Elrond was smiling and so he couldn't help but to smile back.

"What is it?"

Elrond swallowed, still breathing hard, and attempted to organise the words he wanted to say. They eluded him and so he once again glanced down and back up again, looking at Ereinion with eyes imploring him to understand.

Ereinion looked at him, uncomprehending. Elrond tried again.

"I'm-"

That was as far as he got before Ereinion's eyes suddenly widened and he looked down to where his hand was hidden beneath the many layers of clothing, still holding-

_Oh._

He closed the absolute last of the distance between them and caught the half-elf up in a fierce kiss.

"You-"

"Mm-hmm," Elrond gasped, hands fisting in the back of Ereinion's tunic as the King resumed his ministrations. He laughed breathlessly, relieved, in between kisses. "Maybe...what I want is...is something you can...give me...after all."

"Mm, and I'm going to give it to you good," Ereinion growled. He had just captured Elrond's mouth once more in a kiss, when...

...there was a knock on the door.

The two elves hastily broke the kiss, exchanging a glance and then looking towards the door which was, thankfully, closed and locked. They both silently thought that maybe if they didn't answer, whoever it was would go away.

But instead the knock came again, and Ereinion's page called his name from the other side of the door. "Your Majesty!"

Ereinion growled. "What!" he snapped back.

"The dwarven emissaries from Casarrondo have arrived, sire. They are demanding your presence."

Ereinion sighed in exasperation. "Right now?"

"Yes, Your Grace. They are most insistent. You know how dwarves are," Harren added after a moment.

"Very well. Give me a moment."

Ereinion exhaled through his nose and rested his forehead against Elrond's. The half-elf was biting back a smile, more amused than anything else by the interruption. "Go," he said to the King.

"I'm sorry," Ereinion whispered.

"It's fine, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

Elrond nodded. He cleared his throat, gently but firmly pushing the King away and freeing himself from Ereinion's every grip. He turned away from the King, chuckling quietly to himself as he straightened his clothes.

"Why are you laughing?" Ereinion asked, smoothing the wrinkles out of his tunic. He kept his voice low so that Harren wouldn't hear them from outside.

Elrond shook his head as he turned back to face the taller elf. "I'm just remembering that one time I walked in on you and Gildor in here."

Before he could add anything else, Ereinion's face had creased into an apologetic expression. "I really am sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it, honestly, it's alright." He reached up and straightened the King's collar. "There. Your hair's still fine," he added after a quick look to either side.

"Yours isn't," Ereinion murmured. He hadn't been as careful when it came to maintaining hairstyles as Elrond had been, and the braid on the left side of the shorter elf's face was unravelling from the middle. He lightly ran his right index finger over the carnage.

"I'll fix it. You better go, you don't want to keep King Durin's representatives waiting."

Ereinion nodded. "I probably won't see you tonight, now that the dwarves are here early, but I definitely will tomorrow."

"You better!"

The King grinned. "I wouldn't miss it for anything. Are you sure you're alright?"

Elrond's smile was small, but it still could have eclipsed the sun. "I am...fantastic," he said, and meant it. He nudged Ereinion in the direction of the door. "Go on."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Ereinion promised, and when Elrond nodded in reply, left his study carefully, making sure to open the door in such a way that the half-elf would not been seen from the hallway.

Elrond stepped back to lean against the pillar and exhaled, feeling hopeful for the first time in years. He wasn't ruined. He was not so naive as to believe himself completely healed, but it was a start.

It was a start.

He pressed a hand against his heart, which was still hammering, and took deep breaths to regain his composure. When he had himself back under control, he endeavoured to repair his braid using the partial reflection he could see in the glass door of the cabinet to his left. After a few tries he managed to re-do it so it was neat and more or less level with the one on the other side. He adjusted his high collar and made sure his robes were hanging properly, then crossed to the door of Ereinion's study and cracked it open, making sure there was no one around to see him leaving. There wasn't, so he latched the door and shut it behind him, and then headed back to the library.

* * *

_33 Echuir_

Elrond yawned as he followed the King into his rooms. Ereinion had thrown a spectacular party for Elrond's centenary, and it had only just begun to wind down. Ereinion had invited Elrond back to his rooms for a quiet nightcap, as a way to wind down after the noise and excitement of the feast. Elrond was absolutely exhausted but he was determined to fight sleep off for a little while yet, and so had acquiesced.

Ordinarily they would have gone to Elrond's rooms, but the half-elf's living quarters were part of a two-person apartment that was currently also housing Celebrían. Ereinion was intending to convert one of the guest suites into a separate apartment specifically for the half-elf, but that project was still quite firmly in the planning stage. It did not feel quite right to prolong the night by spending a few moments alone when Elrond's best friend was sleeping - or rather, knowing Celebrían, _not_ sleeping - in the next room. Ereinion's rooms afforded more privacy, and had a better view. There was no other choice, really.

Ereinion poured them both a glass of wine and carried the two goblets to the pile of pillows in front of the fire, where Elrond was sitting. The younger elf was more than a little tipsy and was surprised that his legs had consented to carry him along for this long. He'd expected them to collapse with exhaustion halfway up the stairs, truth be told. He held his hands out to the fire to warm them. It was more than halfway into Echuir, the stirring, but the weather had been unseasonably cool these last few days, and the palace's many fireplaces had been called upon to sustain their merry glowing for a little while longer.

Ereinion handed one of the glasses to the half-elf and then lay down on the pillows, propping himself up on an elbow so he could drink his wine.

"Did you have a good night?"

Elrond grinned and nodded. "I did. It was marvellous."

Ereinion smiled and placed his wine to the side so he could lay flat on his back. He folded his hands behind his head. "Good. I couldn't let such an important milestone pass by unnoticed."

Elrond laughed and reached over to set his wine next to Ereinion's own glass, and then lowered himself down so he was lying with his head on the King's chest, incited to do so by his alcohol-lowered inhibitions and the fact that Ereinion was about the only person he _could_ lie like this with. "Well I think it's safe to say that everyone in Middle Earth noticed."

"As they well should!" the King exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Elrond's shoulders. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he added quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that before."

"I don't think I ever have smiled like that before," the half-elf replied honestly.

The implications of that statement suddenly reminded Ereinion of something that he'd been meaning to ask Elrond all night. "Speaking of," He began, "what happened yesterday in my study? What was that all about?"

Elrond didn't answer straight away. He shifted to lean over the King. He reached for his wine and took a sip before answering, but instead of speaking, he reached up and trailed a finger around the outer curve of Ereinion's ear.

"What do you feel when I do this?" he asked, repeating the caress.

Ereinion swallowed, fighting to keep his thoughts coherent against the gentle but insistent wave of pleasure that swept over him. "Umm..."

Fortunately Elrond hadn't been seeking a vocal answer. He took his hand away and when the King opened his eyes and looked at him quizzically, Elrond just smiled.

"That's what I felt." He took a deep breath. "I...it has never happened before."

The King's lips formed a silent 'o' of understanding. One of his eyebrows rose slightly. "Never...?"

Elrond shook his head. "Not since...before I came to Lindon," he explained, evading the real reason, but knowing Ereinion would know what he meant. "I'm sorry if my actions were too forward. I wasn't really thinking."

The taller elf instantly shook his head. "No, no they weren't. I understand." _And had my own selfish reasons for letting that happen,_ he added silently.

The half-elf's smile returned. "Well, good."

He laid his head back down on Ereinion's chest and they remained there for a few moments, both content to watch the fire and enjoy the quiet comfort of the other's presence. After a while Elrond leaned over Ereinion again. "So," he began, his tone slightly too nonchalant, "I might have decided what I want from you for my centenary."

"Oh?" Ereinion quirked an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

Elrond cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. The wine, instead of giving him courage, had just made his mouth dry. He swallowed and took the plunge.

"To finish what we started yesterday."

Ereinion bit his lip in hesitation. Elrond, when he saw it, immediately pushed away from Ereinion's chest and sat up, heart dropping with a painful jerk. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, wait," the taller elf interrupted, realising what Elrond must be thinking. He followed Elrond into a sitting position. "It isn't that. I'm just worried about the consequences." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew they'd just make it worse. "Wait-! Let me explain."

Elrond was looking at him with a guarded expression, but allowed the King his request. Ereinion took a deep breath and rounded up the words he needed. "It isn't that I don't want to. I do. It's just that-" he licked his lips and picked at a feather that was poking through one of the pillow covers. "I'm the King. My life...isn't my own. This can't become a far-reaching relationship. There are certain things that I can't do the way I want, because they might need to be done a different way later, for the good of the realm."

He looked at Elrond and waited for his reaction.

Elrond's fears were calmed by Ereinion's words, and his heart resumed its normal rhythm. Everything was alright; Ereinion had just misunderstood the request. Elrond shook his head with a slight smile. "I'm not asking for your life. Or a relationship. I don't want half of the kingdom and a crown and throne of my own. That's not what I meant. You're the only person I trust enough to do this with. The only person I have ever been _able_ to do this with. I-I'm not asking for your heart, or your hand. I am asking for tonight." He had unconsciously shifted closer to the King as he spoke, and now they were barely a hands width apart. "That's all I want. Just tonight."

Ereinion reached a hand out to cup Elrond's smooth, fire-warmed cheek. He was so beautiful, all long dark hair and big grey eyes, so heartbreakingly beautiful, and Ereinion wasn't strong enough to resist any more. He could tell himself that he was only doing this because Elrond wanted it, but that would be a lie. Ereinion had wanted this ever since he first laid eyes on the half-elf, but knowledge of Elrond's past made him keep a respectful distance and hold his impulses firmly in check.

But now it was finally a possibility. The one obstacle that had kept Elrond isolated from this kind of relationship was gone, and Elrond _wanted_ this...

Ereinion's thoughts scattered to the wind when he realised that there was no longer any space between his lips and Elrond's. Neither was sure which one of them had started it, but it did not matter. Within moments they were partially undressed and had moved to Ereinion's large feather bed; a few moments more and the covers had been thrown back, all remaining clothing torn off and discarded on the floor.

Any remaining anxieties Elrond had were smoothed by the King's soft touch, the warmth of his body warming Elrond's in return. The unfamiliar but welcome sensations that had dictated his actions in the King's study the previous day overtook him once more, and once his body responded as it should, he forgot that there had ever been anything wrong with him.

Every point of contact sent sparks through their systems: shots of pleasure as fingers trailed along arms and flanks and backs, and then dipped lower, delicious heat where Elrond had wrapped one leg around the King's hips as they slid together. Each kiss seared their lips, the blood rushing through their bodies in tandem. Ereinion wasn't sure if the sounds he heard were Elrond's moans or his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears. The only distance between them came when Ereinion reached a shaky hand up to the nightstand to grasp one of the vials of oil that always resided there, and once that was in hand their embrace re-formed, lips seeking each other with little need for their owners' influence.

If each touch of Ereinion's fingers on Elrond's skin created sparks, then his next ministrations were fireworks, loud and hot and oh so bright. It hurt, but not as much as he expected and a moment later he had forgotten, seeing sparks expand into colourful showers of light on the back of his eyelids. He arched up involuntarily as pleasure rocketed through him. The sound that accompanied it might have been the explosion of firepower or it might have been his own vocalisation; he didn't know and frankly he didn't care.

Ereinion worked quickly but thoroughly, and as soon as he saw the first hint of discomfort cross Elrond's face, he crooked his finger up, his aim true, and watched as the half-elf's mind went totally blank with the sensation. The King could almost see the coherent thoughts draining out of Elrond's ears. He stroked again, harder, and Elrond arched underneath him, a gasp ripping free from his lungs. Ereinion licked his lips and grinned to himself, and kept the flame kindled as he finished his preparations, and then covered the shorter elf's body with his own, reaching up with his other hand to brush Elrond's damp fringe away from his forehead.

The trails of light from the last firework dissipated, and Elrond opened his eyes to find Ereinion over him. The King kissed him again, whispered _relax_, and then the fireworks were back.

Only this time the sparks weren't exploding around them: the two lovers _were_ the sparks. There were no thoughts, or words, or identities. There was only feeling and movement and the hot undertow of passion, swirling around their bodies and pulling insistently. They clutched tightly to one another, moving as one, mouths joined together as surely as their bodies were. The silken waves broke and broke and broke, the pleasure building up until it was nigh unbearable. The two elves pressed closer to each other as they drew ever nearer to the edge, until a final mighty wave of sensation crashed over them and dragged them under.

What might have been one minute or one year or one century later, Elrond and Ereinion stirred, returning to consciousness together, just as they had left it. Ereinion woke faster than Elrond, so he took the opportunity to quickly disappear into the bathroom in search of a washcloth. He cleaned them both up as much as possible and then simply turned and lobbed the cloth back into the bathroom from where he stood. It landed with a damp splat. Ereinion slid back between the sheets and gathered Elrond's sleepy form in his arms, rolling them both over so that the half-elf's head was pillowed on his chest in an imitation of their earlier position in front of the fire.

The sound of the impact of the washcloth on the tiled bathroom floor drew Elrond further out of his slumber and he opened his eyes to find himself safely ensconced in Ereinion's arms once again, with the soft bedcovers drawn over him. He could still feel the after-effects of their coupling drifting around him like smoke from a blown-out candle. He exhaled slowly and tilted his head up to look at Ereinion's face.

"Is it always like that?"

Ereinion laughed once, not without humour. "No. No, it isn't usually that intense." He met Elrond's stormy grey eyes. "Not in my experience, anyway."

Elrond smiled, unable to keep from feeling strangely pleased with himself, and put his head back on the King's chest.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"My pleasure," Ereinion replied, lips twisting into a smile.

"Mm-mm. Ours," Elrond corrected.

Ereinion chuckled softly. "Ours," he agreed. He carded his fingers through the remains of Elrond's ornate hairstyle, unravelling the last of the braids and easing out the tangles. After a while his ministrations ceased to be helpful and started to spread static, and so he settled for wrapping his arms back around Elrond's shoulders.

"Do you want me to go?" the half-elf whispered after a moment, wondering if the cessation was an unspoken signal. His voice was soft and thick with impending sleep.

The taller elf shook his head and tightened his hold. Leaving was the last thing he wanted Elrond to do. Ever.

"No, stay. Go to sleep."

He pressed a kiss to Elrond's temple and felt the younger elf shift slightly, settling into a more comfortable position.

"Happy begetting day," Ereinion murmured as Elrond's breath evened out and he was lost to the realm of dreams.

Sleep did not come so easily for Ereinion, who could not help but think on what Elrond had said earlier about not wanting a relationship. Elrond had all but promised that he wouldn't fall in love with Ereinion after this one night together, and Ereinion ruefully considered that maybe he was the one who should have made that promise.

_You said you weren't asking for my heart,_ he thought. _But you do not need to. It is already yours._

_If only you will take it._

* * *

_Casarrondo_ is the Noldorin name for Khazad-dûm.

This is part of a much bigger story that I am planning to write which will function as a biography of Elrond. I have a stupidly extensive headcanon for him, and I suspect you might need to know about some of that to actually understand what is going on here. But I am planning to write a oneshot that will (hopefully) explain the central issue. It will be called _Winter_.


End file.
